The Pickle and the Lion

My first wife and I have been married for 23 years. (A wise man once claimed that the first 40 years are the hardest so I am reserving judgement until we pass that milestone.)  Back when we were dating, my sister Jeanie’s family was living in Springville, just 8 miles or so south of BYU. One of our early “dates” was traveling down to visit her and her kids. The highlight of one visit was the feeding of a live mouse to their boa constrictor. We also liked going to Church with them as my nephew Chris-pot-ipher T. Norton Pickle would keep us entertained during the meeting. He had the biggest smile I had ever seen on a kid; he definitely put the “beam” in Sunbeam. For him, and us, it was a fine line between being reverent and covertly having a good time. We were so fond of the young fella that we even added “pickle’ to his name. We would say it, in all its glory, and he would say, “No, not pickle,” and we would say it again and he would respond the same until our voices grew tired.

Our pickle friend grew up, however, and my sister’s lousy family moved to Ohio. We missed them, so when the wife had a conference in the area, we were able to stop and visit the Rasmussens once again. The family picked us up at the airport and I squeezed in next to Shiloh in the family Suburban. As we rolled along the road I could hear singing. At first I thought the radio was playing at an extremely low volume. But then I realized that Shiloh was singing in a beautiful, but barely audible soprano. “In the village, the peaceful village, the lion sleeps tonight.” I leaned in to listen and then, of course, just as quiet and breathy, joined in for the chorus, “A-weema-wey, a-weema-wey, a-weema-wey, a-weema-wey.” This was long before The Lion King made the song more widely known and popular. Thinking about Shiloh singing never fails to makes me smile. I wish I had a recording of her singing it at that age. But the recording always falls short of the live performance and I can still hear her voice in my head when I think back.

Our Ohio trip coincided with the Pickle’s baptism. He was very excited for this event and we were so pleased to be there to share it with him. After the splash, we were back in the Suburban, and headed back to their house. The young fellow, the newest member of the Church, was in the very back area of the vehicle and when it was time to exit, he lost his balance and tumbled out onto the ground. “Well, I guess I’m not perfect any more,” he exclaimed. We laughed and were glad that our little friend still had his big smile and sense of humor.